


detective kenny: (not) to the rescue

by cloudburst



Series: the marvelous misadventures of paul cummings [2]
Category: The Night Shift (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 08:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10873023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudburst/pseuds/cloudburst
Summary: Kenny knows a lot about Paul Cummings: the fact that he uses really bad pet names wasnotone of them. At least, not until today.





	detective kenny: (not) to the rescue

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically crack (not really) of already crack

There are many things that Kenny Fournette knows about Paul Cummings. 

> 1\. He is short.  
>  2\. He has a heart of gold.  
>  3\. He takes himself far too seriously and not seriously enough—all at once.  
>  4\. Adorable. (He'd _resentfully_ tacked that one on following the outrageous Puppy Paul Scandal. He's not going into that.)  
>  5\. Talks in his sleep.

Admittedly, there isn't too much on his list. And that last one is a new discovery: a discovery that Kenny could have gone his entire life without having the (dis)pleasure of learning. 

Then again, tack number six on the list—learned as a result of five.

> 6\. Likely dating a girl named Gabriella. ( _That sly bastard. How's he gonna hide that from me?_ )

And number seven, also an impact of Paul's iconic sleepy time rumblings. He'd said: _"Baby, you know I don't know what you mean when you whisper in french. Or when you yell. Or when you speak. I'd learn it for you, I—it means what?—oh god."_

> 7\. Therefore, Paul doesn't speak French. (Kenny already knew that—or, had assumed. It was just nice to have confirmation in life, sometimes.) 

But number eight, the final thing Kenny Fournette knew about Paul Cummings, was that he's an idiot who falls asleep in the break room—cheek squished to the table. 

So naturally, Kenny calls the majority of the other nurses in. (It's a slow night in the ER—the 16th of May, a waning crescent moon.) They crowd is around Paul; Jocelyn is questioning, "Kenny, what—"

"No, Jocelyn, listen." 

She scoffs, but everyone quiets down and opens their ears (figuratively of course, though, they are in the ER)—Paul's mouth forming an O shape, then closing. Kenny waits in suspense, everyone else in boredom. 

Paul grumbles. _"Okay, babe."_ The nurses all share a startled look, Kenny shaking his head. _"Why is the number eighty actually four-twenty. Like, I need to know. Are the french constantly blazing it when they see the number eighty, are you—"_

Paul pauses, smiling to himself. It's a dopey smile, one they've only seen when he's looking down at his phone—or to Jordan's disdain, when he buys the last chocolate pudding parfait from the vending machine. But it's only those two instances. Mollie laughs; Jocelyn sighs a little. "She makes him smile, even when he's sleeping." 

"Sleeping at work, may I add," Kenny does, in fact, add in his faux authority voice. 

Mollie is all authority when she says: "Shush, Kenny, he's speaking again." 

_"Gabe-y, baby, you're always kissing me when I say stupid things. It's not really giving me any incentive to stop—"_

Kenny laughs. "What the hell. This girl must be a saint to put up with his ass."

This is said at the same time as Jocelyn's words. "Pet names _are_ the root of all good relationships."

Mollie just mouths the phrase "Gabe-y baby," to herself—head shaking from side to side in disbelief. It's rather comical looking, but everyone is too focused on Paul to notice.

_—see, like just now! You hate when I call you that and you just rewarded me for it. You're awful at this."_

Everyone is laughing at this point. Kenny is particularly loud, not that that's not how it normally is. And because his normal volume is thirty notches above anyone else's, Jocelyn shrieks. "Hush, Kenny!" She smacks his arm, hard. "You're gonna wake him up!" 

It goes silent when Mollie knocks into one of the chairs with her hip—eyes going wide as the sleeping beauty smacks his lips together. 

A sigh from Paul. _"I love you, too."_ He says nothing else, head shifting, forehead going to press against the tabletop's surface. It isn't until the conclusion of Kenny's frantic whispers of, "Go!" that Paul's eyes crack open—lids rolling back slowly but surely.

A small yawn escapes him before he abruptly sits up, eyes widening. 

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty." There are a few snickers; Kenny grins at Paul. 

Paul, for his part, tries not to look embarrassed—rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Sorry, I—" He cuts himself off, narrowing his eyes. "Hi, Kenny." 

And Kenny, for his part, tries to look like he's innocent—like he _hasn't_ pranked Paul millions of times. Paul wouldn't even say that was an exaggeration. He'd say it was a fact. Kenny's voice spikes in disbelief. "Why are you looking at me like that? You're the one who fell asleep. Damn." 

Paul nods his head in agreement. There's not much else he can do besides stand up and hope all of his limbs are attached. 

He does. And they are. 

"Uhhh, true. I guess." 

They leave it at that. (Well, Paul does. Kenny continues to mess with him for the rest of the night. It's only fair.)

* * *

It's a week later, and Paul leans against the wall—exhaling deeply, a small frown on his face. He momentarily looks down to his phone when it vibrates, frown gone in an instant. 

**_my babe_ **

_how did the surgery go?_

**_me_ **

_It went fine._

**_my babe_**

_alright, just wanted to check in!! i know ur busy. enjoy the rest of your shift. i love you chéri_

Paul puts his phone away, ghost of a smile now present on his face. It lasts for a moment, but just so, before Kenny Fournette is leaning on the wall—standing in front of him. 

"Texting _Gabriella_?"

Paul splutters. His voice is nothing short of incredulous. 

"What?"

Kenny lets out a laugh—shaking his head with that knowing grin plastered across his face. 

" _Man,_ don't act like you don't know." Kenny puts a hand on Paul's shoulder for a moment, before it falls back to his side where it belongs. "I heard you talking to her in your sleep: _gabe-y baby._ "

Paul reacts. He doesn't necessarily do it well. 

"Gabe is— _um_ —" cuts himself off. What to say? "Gabe is my dog. His name is Gabriel." 

Kenny raises an eyebrow. "You kiss your dog? Your dog speaks French? Paul, you might need to go get _your_ head scanned." 

"French bulldog, Fournette. Educate yourself before you come for me." 

Kenny laughs, again, at Paul's expense—removing himself from his position against the wall. "Just don't get dog slobber on me and we're cool."

Paul exhales a deep breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding when Kenny walks away—looks down to his phone as he pulls it out if his pocket. 

**_my babe_**

_know i said enjoy the rest of ur shift, but, i want to watch netflix and can't remember ur pass, pls help me_

_also, again, i love you_

Paul full-on grins at his phone. 

**_me_ **

_You know my password to everything at this point is gabriel0901. I think you just wanted the reminder that I'm absolute mush for you._

**_my babe_**

_actually i forgot ! thank u chéri. also, it is funny you always say mush b/c in french "moche" means ugly, are u ugly for me, chéri?_

_don't answer that_

_je t'aime, idiot_

Just around the corner, Kenny smiles at the expression on Paul's face.

* * *

Number nine on the list of things Kenny Fournette knows about Paul Cummings:

> 9\. He's in love.

**Author's Note:**

> (: (: (:


End file.
